Don't Blink
by InfinitiePatronus
Summary: One Shot! On the inside, Harry's not what everyone thinks. How can he be when every eye's on him?


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Neville, Hermione, Ron, or anyone/anything else that might show up except the plot. The song belongs to Dashboard Confessional. Enjoy and review, please!

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**Don't Blink**

**By: Gweludolie**

Sunlight fell upon the bed, making the room seem to glow in the early morning sunrise. Harry stirred in his bed, finally recognizing the feeling of the bright, hot sun on his face. He could hear the birds chirping, eve from all the way in the Forbidden Forest, and he could already tell it was going to be a cloudless, "perfect" spring day. But, ok, how he had hopes for rain.

What would they think of him if they knew? All perfect Harry Potter doesn't like the sun? They might have a stroke, But that would be a piece of cake next to some of the other things he favored. Like the little whites he kept hidden in his bedside table. Vitamins, they all thought. They suspected chamomile. Yea, right.

Tepid waters chase the pills

With turpentine and chamomile

He reached blindly towards the table, finding the exact location of the little orange bottle almost immediately. Grabbing his glass of water, which looked as if it had been sitting for months, he downed 2 of the little white capsules. It was early, sure enough, but he knew he'd never get back to sleep.

He sighed, already feeling the calming effects. He'd never be able to live without those. Ever. But if anyone should happen upon them... He quickly replaced the bottle in it's spot and shut the drawer. Might as well get up, get cleaned, get as ready as he could to face the crowd.

Morning calls for pain relief

A line above the step beneath

The worst you could do

He was preparing for the Gauntlet, or so it would seem. He purposely woke up early to miss everyone at breakfast. He sat in the back of his classes and silently took the best notes he could. But lunch was inevitable. All those people in the Great Hall. He wasn't sure he could take it.

The hallways seemed empty. Of course, the would when everyone else was down at lunch. Lunch. Where he had to go, unless he wanted to miss another meal. Which probably wasn't healthy for him as it was. But that was where everyone was. The Gauntlet. He sighed and continued his slow descent. If he could have it his way, no one would know him. He'd be just another normal, everyday wizard going through Hogwarts. They could keep their damn scar. But, of course, that wasn't how it was.

He turned a corner and found himself at the top of the big staircase that lead to the Great Hall. If he weren't so hungry, he'd consider going and moping about the library, or his common room. It was all he was good at anymore, apparently, so why not? But something unknown pushed him to take the first step down the stairs. He wasn't entirely sure if it was his stomach, but he continued on his trek, remembering barely to jump over the trick step.

Slowly, the doors came into view. There would be no turning back once he reached the bottom of the stairs, and he wasn't sure he was ready to handle all the eyes, the incriminating stares. Either you loved him or you hated him, and he had grown worse at telling the difference in some of them. It didn't matter to him anymore, though. They could all hate him for all he cared. Maybe that way, they'd all leave him alone, stop making such a fuss about Harry freaking Potter.

He was standing in front of the doors. They looked menacing and completely overbearing. He couldn't stand it. But if he walked away now, and someone left the Great Hall...he wouldn't have to explain himself, but he'd have to talk to whoever it was. He didn't know why talking to one person seemed so much worse than entering a hall of hundreds, but in his mind, it just did. He finally decided to just go in. He pushed open the doors.

The Great Hall fell silent, just like every other time he walked in. Almost all eyes turned to him. Even the Slytherins (if not all of them) were looking his way with looks of hatred. This was a normal occurrence for him, he had to admit, and this was what he hated.

Don't blink, everyone's watching

They'll think that you're up to something

They need for you to be

Everything that they cannot (be themselves)

If this wouldn't make him want to kill himself, he didn't know what would. He could eat with only worrying about stolen glances. Those he could deal with. Ron and Hermione had sense enough to leave him alone and not try to talk to him during lunch. Hermione kept looking over his shoulder, sending odd looks at the Slytherin table. He made a mental note to break out of his cocoon and ask her about it later. And that was if she answered him. They didn't talk to him much anymore. But, then again, no one really did. Everyone thought it was too dangerous.

Voldemort had returned to full power at the beginning of the year. No, in November, everyone was scared to talk to him. They thought they were in too much danger by associating with Harry Potter. He suspected their parents had something to do with it. 'Be careful around that Potter kid,' they'd say. 'He's not safe to be around with You-Know-Who back and all.' He ha turned from world hero to Public Enemy #2 (only because Voldemort was #1) in a matter of a few weeks. Sometimes, the wizarding world amazed him.

The common room was empty. All the better for him. No one to look at him in disgust as he drowned his sorrows. He pulled out a bottle and popped 2 of the pills from it, then returned to his homework and bottle of cheap muggle wine that he'd lifted from he uncle's cabinet. He was up to his neck in homework and he wasn't sure he'd get any sleep that night.

Tepid waters chase the pills

With turpentine and chamomile

But don't get cheap with the wine

You need to be up all of the time.

He heard noises. Footsteps trudging down the stairs. From the boy's stairs. He could only hope it was Ron, but that hope wasn't so high. Ron probably wouldn't even stop to talk to him, just continue on his offhand quest, then go back to sleep without even acknowledging him.

Quickly, he shoved the pill bottle in his pocket and pushed the wine bottle behind his armchair, out of sight of whoever was coming down. And just in time, as Neville came out of the doorway, clad in his pajamas and looking about. He almost didn't even see Harry sitting and staring into the fire.

"Oh, hullo Harry," he said very uninterestingly, still looking around the common room. Under pillows, cushions, armchairs. "Are you feeling alright?"

Harry contemplated this question for a moment or two, moving so that Neville couldn't see his face.

Shield your eyes

Conceal Your lies

"Yea, I'm alright. Everything's fine," Harry lied, his voice dark and heavy with sadness and depression. Neville didn't notice, just gave up his search and headed back up to their bedroom.

And the best that you could hope for

Is hardly the best


End file.
